The vial of the blue liquid, the last parting gift she had given him. He stared out onto the beach, past the rust bucket that had apparently transported them all there. He couldn't remember it, but why would he be able to. Losing that much blood will keep anyone out, even the saviour of all mankind, Thomas. At least that was what Minho and Frypan has started ironically calling him. Imagine going through all that and still being called a shank for his troubles. But as the sun passed over him and he extended an arm to protect his arm from the brightness, he had the idea to throw the vial away, to be rid of the past that had troubled him, tried to imprison him like a rat, a lab rat, literal property of WICKED. But he didn't do that. He heard the little voice of Teresa in the back of his mind, telling him to go. She had died right in front of him. But Thomas knew better than to throw away the last remaining memento of Teresa.

So, he did what he knew how to do, keep it close to him. Together with Newt's letter and Chuck's relic, he bunched them up, a reminder of his truly closest fallen friends. In some ways, those three balanced each other expertly. Teresa, the human quality of striving to better humanity, the thirst for knowledge and the uncompromising methods people use to obtain it, which was her downfall. Chuck, the immature, loveable childlike innocence that in many cases is all too easily snatched away. And Newt, the level headed ultimatum between the two, achieving order throughout chaos, before giving into the very chaos he tried to control. But as he heard his name being called faintly from the distance, he was brought back to reality as the memories of his fallen friends went back to the nether regions of his miraculous brain.

He turned around to where the voice came from and sure enough a figure was approaching from the tarpaulin and the Centre Stone as it had been dubbed. It had become the symbol of all that they stood for, as those who had sacrificed themselves were remembered in the very centre of the new society they had helped build and work towards. But the figure that the voice seemingly came from came into eyesight and it was a face Thomas was thankful to see. It was Brenda. Ever since their experience in those tunnels, Thomas knew he could trust her.

In all honesty, Thomas had never met someone like Brenda. Obviously, he only had snippets of information before his first awakening in the Maze. But Thomas knew that even after the Maze, and probably before, Brenda was someone who was entirely different from the personalities he had the pleasure of knowing. And he couldn't help but notice her sneaking glances his way. And Brenda, ever being the observant one couldn't help but notice him sneaking glances her way. Both had been notified by their friends, rather annoyingly, that they would be a good match for each other, that they should try. Now Thomas respected Brenda first and foremost and often joked with his friends about this, but a part of his mind often drifted to thoughts of him and her together, enjoying their time. And as she came up to him, they made their way back to the camp, laughing and joking between them, not even noticing that they had joined hands on the way…